All of us take the stage
overflowing with sweet nonsense
Delusional eccentricities
poach our collective memory of uniform
Leaving our dopey grins,
our “I can change everything” hearts
We are not programmed to fathom – everything
loses texture
Being idle creates a fog
Nothing can kick in but the smoke
Our audience is sick and dismayed,
they can’t even tell us apart

Sometimes I’ll get really lost in numbers, trying to use them to measure my worth. I’ll start to fixate, organizing myself, my character, my accomplishments, etc. into compartments. I have to stop myself and take a grand sweep backward, seeing the whole picture and accepting it at face value to understand the danger in the numbers game.

My mother taught me that being kind and good to all life is where the real merit lies.

Hank taught me that the power of independence is greater than any box dwelling.

The California Sunshine taught me the importance of leaving the familiar; you can always go back but investing time in the enigmatic “Other” keeps “Room” from narrowing your mind.

It is so vital to feel, and to feel it all, taking into account the fluidity of every one of these feelings. They cannot be quantified. Our minds are too beautiful and complex to allow for numbness and atrophy. I value myself and I do it because I love the whole world. I value my art because it comes from my honest work and no one has a say about that except for me, even when my thoughts are lavish or wholly ridiculous.